


the stars don't even matter

by tysunkete (aozu)



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Awkward Sexual Situations, Implied Relationships, M/M, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 01:13:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13156029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aozu/pseuds/tysunkete
Summary: Wrong post delivery AU.Kanda opens a package. It all goes downhill from there.





	the stars don't even matter

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted: 05/04/2015.

_~_ _'cause if you're not really here_ _  
then I don't want to be either~_

* * *

The first time Kanda opens a package that he realises isn’t his, he didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Sure the content was sketchy as fuck, but it isn’t something he hasn’t seen before, and what other people order by mail isn’t his business anyway. It’s just a tiny bit annoying because the stupid mailman should’ve done his job right. But then again he should’ve been more alert to the fact that he didn’t buy anything online recently, certainly nothing that would’ve came in a box. It could’ve been a “care package” from his ex-foster father, but those are always decorated with some kind of artsy wrapping paper and over the top decoration combined with a glittery card and etcetera, etcetera;  bottom line: it would’ve been plain obvious if it was from Tideoll.

Kanda scowls and shifts through the plain brown wrapping paper he ripped apart and holds it up to squint at the address—the address _is_ his, but the name isn’t.

_Lavi._

Huh. The name sounds familiar but as he racks his brain, no face comes to mind, and it’s impossible that it’s a past tenant since he’s been staying in the same apartment for over two years now. The postcode hints that it’s probably someone in the apartment block that he’s in if it’s just a simple mistake of getting the flat number wrong, but he’s not going to waste his damn time searching for the idiot.

The idiot who bought a fucking _dildo_ _vibrator_.

It’s not like Kanda has anything against sex toys—he has one though he hasn’t used it in a while, and he concedes that the packaging and label was non-descript to the point that he had no clue until he ripped the paper off, but now out of its wrapping, the picture in the front boasts about the plastic toy’s _capabilities_ in bright neon pink. He debates for a few seconds whether he should throw it out (but shit like this was _expensive_ , is he that much of a dick?) or to drop it off at the receptionist in plain view.

Ah fuck, it’s not like it’s _his_ package; the embarrassment is on the idiot who collects it.

With that in mind he leaves the box on the table and clears the shredded wrapping, sorting through the rest of his mail—bills, bills, more bills—before heading to take a bath before work. It’s nearing 9 p.m. when he opens his front door to leave; he’s a bartender working night shifts at an up-scale bar downtown that pays pretty decently, so he doesn’t really have much to complain except his circadian clock gets fucked up from time to time.

When he shuffles his shoes on outside, the door opposite his opens to reveal a redhead. It’s his new neighbour who moved in about a month ago, Kanda can’t remember his name and can’t be arsed to know, but he vaguely remembers the same redhead ringing his doorbell exactly a month ago and him slamming his door shut in the other’s face after a second’s glance. In Kanda’s defense, he was barely two hours into sleep having returned from work in the morning and had no mood to deal with lousy pleasantries. He hasn’t seen the redhead from then on until now, probably since his awake schedule is pretty much weird. As he fits his second shoe on, he senses the redhead glancing at him uncertainly as the other shuts and locks his door in silence.

Kanda knows his face is in a perpetual dark scowl and so it doesn’t really surprise him that when he glances up and their eyes meet, the redhead hastily looks away and fumbles even more with his key. Kanda almost snorts in amusement—the other is decked in practically _pyjamas_ with the messiest bedhead he’s ever seen, and well, the white medicinal eyepatch was also weird. Now that Kanda’s actually had a proper look, the guy seems about his age. Green eye, he remembers. Wide smile. Annoying voice when he tried to introduce himself. What was it? La—

“Are you Lavi?”

The redhead literally jumps in fright when he speaks, and Kanda raises an eyebrow when the other accidentally bangs into his own door in the process.

“Ow _fuck_!” is the loud cry, followed by a valiant effort to keep his wince down. “Um, um, y-yeah. You remembered,” the other answers, looking wary and surprised at the same time. “Hi. I uh, moved in about a month ago, I—“

Kanda doesn’t bother to listen to the rest of the sentence as he walks back into his own apartment, faintly annoyed that his shoes are tracking a bit a dirt, but he merges quickly with the box he accidentally opened by mistake earlier that day. The redhead—Lavi—looks confused at his sudden departure and return.

Kanda shoves the package into Lavi’s hands. “Get your damn address right,” he states.

“Huh— _oh_.”

Kanda can actually see the blood draining from the redhead’s face the moment the other realises what he’s holding, and then the rush of red back up his neck in sheer embarrassment.

“I-I uh, I…it’s not a hobby of mine, I swear!” the redhead babbles, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m just-just curious, you know, just—“

“I _don’t_ need to know,” Kanda rolls his eyes, turning his back to close his own door.

“R-right,” the other clutches the box tighter, hand fumbling for his keys again. “Uh, thanks anyway. And I’m sorry you had to…uh, yeah. It won’t happen again, I promise, so thanks…um—“

Lavi glances backward, but Kanda is already walking down the corridor with a bag slung over his shoulder and hands in his pockets.

* * *

“Oh, you’re later than usual, how unusual.”

Kanda ignores the curious grin that Daisya, his colleague, sends his way as he stalks past the other to get to the changing room. He slips into the uniform and enjoys the few minutes of peace, which is immediately destroyed when he gets behind the bar with the other.

“So what exciting happening was worth your extra minutes?” Daisya bumps hips with him, to which he scowls and shifts further away.

“Do you have to talk every time we’re here?” Kanda demands, taking a moment to wipe down the counter before starting his shift proper.

“It’s called _socialising_ , you poor excuse of a rock brain,” the other quips smoothly, leaning backwards in curiosity. “Seriously though, did your father call you or something?”

“Ex-foster,” Kanda grumbles. “And no, he didn’t. What’s it to you anyway?”

Daisya is used to his prickly attitude since they’ve been colleagues for long now, and isn’t deterred by the glare and general edging away when he slings a friendly arm over Kanda’s shoulder. Kanda actually doesn’t mind the other—much; Daisya may talk enough shit that his teeth were likely to fall off one day, but the elder is admittedly entertaining in some of the really boring nights they have to suffer together, and has, on more than one occasion, punched a customer who tried to grope him and covered his (hypothetical) ass when emergency things happen.

“Whiskey,” a low baritone catches their attention. “Neat.”

“And _you_ are early today,” Daisya greets, smiling, releasing Kanda from the arm hold.

Kanda rolls his eyes in anticipation with what’s to come; in the meantime, he grabs the whiskey bottle and searches for a glass and ice.

Their customer is a regular. Tyki Mik: tanned skin, golden eyes, beauty mark, smooth deposition, straight up killer smile—Kanda had fallen for that once; maybe ‘fallen’ isn’t so accurate, but he didn’t, well, _disagree_ , back then. He still doesn’t, but the man can be pretty infuriating at times and he doesn’t have enough attachment to the other to continue their… _partnership_ of sorts.

“Are you saying Kanda was _late_ today?” Tyki asks, voice amused. His fingers tap gently on the countertop.

“I’m saying something happened, something worthy enough of this guy’s time,” Daisya thumbs to Kanda. “Enough to throw off his perfect little record.”

“Shut up, both of you,” Kanda scowls, setting down a whiskey on the rocks in front of Tyki.

“I said neat,” Tyki blinks.

“I don’t care,” Kanda replies, crossing his arms. “If you get drunk before midnight I will personally kick your fucking ass out of here.”

“Oh please, as if I hold that little weight,” Tyki rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning as he takes the glass. “It does sound however, that you _do_ care: why else would you _personally_ handle my arse, hmm?”

“Fuck you, Mikk.”

“I’ve always said that we’ll welcome you back,” Tyki replies easily.

Kanda scowls darker.

“Speaking of which, where’s the lady?” Daisya cocks his head, curious.

“Lulu won’t be joining us tonight,” Tyki shrugs. “Some work thing, who knows?”

Daisya blinks. “Don’t you guys work in the same company?”

Tyki shrugs again and drinks another sip. “As I said, who knows?” he says blithely. “She sends her regards, of course,” he adds on, sending a smirk towards Kanda.

Kanda huffs and doesn’t bother to retort. It’s not the first time that Tyki’s hinted about this—about _them_ —but, he was young(er) and curious and he didn’t know any better. Being in a SM threesome relationship? Sometimes he even scoffs to himself. He can’t say it was a bad experience because it honestly wasn’t; everything was safe and sane and consensual, but he guesses he didn’t…enjoy…it as much he thought he would. It was just, one day, waking up in the middle between Tyki and Lulu and staring up at the ceiling, he realised that it wasn’t the kind of life he was looking for. Sure, the sex was great, but there was something _missing_ from it.

A year out of it and he still hasn’t found the missing piece, but well, he guesses that’s just life. For now, he gets by on his own and he likes that—he’s not a people person by any means anyway.

“So, what happened?” Daisya presses, and Kanda wonders why their bar isn’t as packed as it usually is, because Daisya still has time for chit chat.

“Will you just shut up about that?”

“You do know that it sounds like you got something to hide, right?” Tyki smirks, leaning closer in curiosity. “Did you meet someone… _special_?”

Kanda rolls his eyes and presses his lips together. “It was just my damn neighbour.”

“Oh ho, what about your neighbour?” Daisya perks up, interested. “The one who woke you up like a month ago and you slammed the door in his face?”

Kanda pauses, because wow, that sounds really bad. “Yeah—yeah,” he makes sure he has most deadpan face when he says the next line, “He ordered a vibrator to my house.”

Tyki chokes on his whiskey and Daisya nearly drops the glass that he was wiping. Kanda smirks minutely to himself as he turns away and serves a customer that comes up to the bar, enjoying the coughing sounds that Tyki tries to clear his throat, and the obvious agitation that vibes off Daisya.

“S-seriously?” Daisya demands when the customer is served, pulling his sleeve. “Woah shit, you got yourself a new dom?”

“I’m not a sub,” Kanda retorts, elbowing Daisya away. “Move. Don’t block the bottles.”

“He said you’re not a dom either,” Daisya replies, cocking his head towards Tyki, to which Kanda glares at the other for.

“What?” Tyki tries innocently. “We love talking about you, Kanda, no shame there.”

“In _what_ conversation did you have to talk about me and fucking?” Kanda hisses, annoyed.

“Now, apparently,” Tyki replies, unbothered. “Did he order the right one? I know you like the—“

“Finish that sentence and I will slam you on the fucking counter,” Kanda threatens.

Tyki grins wider.

“You know how I meant it, fucking Mikk,” Kanda grinds his teeth. “It’s not like that, you stupid perverts,” he scoffs, glaring at them both. “The fucking idiot got the wrong address.”

“Or maybe he got the _right_ address,” Daisya puts in waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “You would never catch a hint as obvious as that, just saying.”

“Or maybe he’s just a fucking idiot,” Kanda repeats.

Tyki hums, relaxed. “Would you do him?”

“What?”

“Would you do him?” Tyki says again patiently.

Kanda squints. “How is that relevant to anything?”

“It’s just a simple question,” the other says, unwavering. “Is he hot or not?”

“What, you want to bang him?”

“Are you being protective?”

Kanda clucks his tongue, annoyed. “No. Not everyone thinks of fucking every person they meet, you loser.”

“You’re so defensive,” Tyki grins, taking a low sip from his whiskey. “I’m just asking about how he looks like. I’m curious. Indulge me.”

Kanda sighs. “Redhead,” he states shortly, thinking a bit. “One eye.”

“One eye?”

“He hurt his right eye or something, hell if I know.”

“Tall?”

 _Than me._ Kanda wrinkles his nose. “Maybe.”

“Young?”

“Maybe.”

“Wow, I had no idea how much anyone can _suck_ at describing things until you,” Daisya comments, and Kanda kicks him in the shins.

“A dom?”

“Hell no— _what_ ,” Kanda pauses the moment he realises what he just answered without thinking.

Tyki is smirking harder than ever now, and Kanda resists the urge to punch him in the face. “Oh, why are you so confident about that?”

Kanda scowls. “He—it was probably the first time he bought that thing, or some shit. He was freaking out when I gave it back to him.”

“All doms have to start from somewhere,” Tyki replies, shrugging. “Was it his face? Did you want to make him cry?” he grins darkly, and Kanda glares at him harder.

“I’m not a sick fuck, unlike you.”

“That hurts, darling.”

“Don’t call me—“

“I think you guys are missing the most important bit here,” Daisya interrupts. “Kanda, you gave him _back_ his vibrator?”

“Then what the hell was I supposed to do with it?” Kanda demands.

“I thought you would throw it into the trash,” Daisya replies honestly. “Or keep it.”

“Moron,” Kanda huffs. “He should know he wrote the fucking wrong address. What if he keeps sending weird shit to my apartment?”

“Hey, free stuff, man.”

“…You’re shitter than I am,” Kanda says finally, and for a moment he doesn’t know whether to feel surprised by this.

* * *

Kanda kind of regrets bring up the topic of his neighbour and the vibrator because that becomes conversational fodder for Daisya and Tyki who delightfully recounts the entire thing with added false stories to Lulubell when she joins them the next day. In fact, for the rest of the next two weeks, they randomly ask about having any _odd_ packages to his apartment—Kanda supposes it’s _funny_ , in a sense, but then all he feels is a sense of slight irritation when he opens another package that doesn’t belong to him again.

This time it’s _handcuffs_ —handcuffs with padding around the wrists area so it’s pretty obvious what it’s supposed to be used for.

This time he grabs the box and goes outside immediately to the door opposite his. He jabs the doorbell and leaves it pressed the whole way until he hears steps hurrying to the front door, and when it opens, the redhead has an even messier bedhead and is again, wearing pyjamas. It’s like, six in the afternoon. Kanda isn’t all that concerned with how people live their life, but wow, this guy’s circadian clock seems more fucked than his is.

Lavi stifles a yawn, but straightens up further when he sees the long haired dark beauty scowling outside his door. “Hey, what can I do for you?”

Kanda holds out the box to his face. “Get your fucking address straight.”

The redhead blinks the sleepiness out of his eyes before reading the bold print. “Ah—“ he begins, face flushing. “I bought this one the same time as the other….—um, the other one, so yeah, I-I—“ he says frantically, swiping the box. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Kanda stares at the dark blush colouring the other’s face. “If you’re that embarrassed by it, don’t buy it, dumbass.”

“It’s my first time, I can’t help it!” Lavi blurts out without thinking, and the silence after that rings strongly in his ears. “I-I mean, I’ve never tried…one of these…and I—“

“I didn’t ask for an explanation,” Kanda rolls his eyes, turning on his heel. “Don’t send me shit again, got it?”

“Yes—…wait!” the redhead practically yells when Kanda is one foot into his apartment. “Uh, what’s your name?”

“Why?” Kanda squints suspiciously.

“Because…because we’re neighbours?” Lavi says, although his own voice sounds unsure. “And you know mine, I—“

“Kanda,” he replies flatly before closing the door behind him.

* * *

In an entirely weird twist of first impressions, Kanda discovers that the redhead—Lavi—doesn’t always talk with a nervous flush. Apparently when no sex toys are involved, the other chatters like a normal person, and Kanda learns more about his neighbour in the span of thirty minutes than the past two months.

Two weeks after he had returned the handcuffs to the other, his own doorbell rings in the mid-afternoon. When he squints through the peep hole to see who it is, he doesn’t want to open the door because the redhead is holding a bouquet of flowers in addition to a really sparkly parcel that’s tied with some glittery ribbon.  

“Hi,” the redhead greets, looking nervous as he cradles the items in his arms. “These got delivered to me, but I think they’re yours…?” he trails off uncertainly. “Ha, must have been a mistake by the mailman.”

“Stupid old man,” Kanda sighs and curses Tiedoll to high heaven, reluctantly taking the parcel. “Not the flowers.”

“But it’s for, uh, Yuu,” Lavi peaks at the card tacked amongst the stems. “That’s you, right?”

“ _Kanda_ ,” Kanda emphasizes, but the redhead then looks at the parcel where a large _YUU KANDA_ is printed in the front. “Tch. I don’t want it. I don’t have anything to keep them with, anyway.”

At this, the redhead perks up and pushes the bouquet into his hands. “Oh, I do. Give me a moment, Yuu!”

Kanda nearly raises his voice to retort, but the words get stuck when he realises that the redhead just called him by his _first name_ , what the hell? Lavi returns back faster than he expects, and basically barges into his apartment with a glass vase in hand.

“Oh wow, it’s exactly the same layout as mine,” the redhead comments in passing as he heads to the kitchen to fill it up with water.

“It’s the same layout in the entire damn building,” Kanda replies, putting the offending parcel and bouquet on the table.

“Oh. Cool. I wouldn’t know, since I don’t need to leave my flat for any reason other than food, really. I write books—novels, kinda,” Lavi puts the vase in the middle of the table. “Here. It’s such a shame to throw away those flowers, they’re really pretty.”

“I said you can have it,” Kanda mutters.

“They’re for you, though.”

“So?”

“So, you should have it,” Lavi replies, smiling.

“Whatever,” Kanda says, not bothered to argue especially since he needs to save energy for the person he’s going to argue with later (hint: Tiedoll). “Will you get out of my apartment? I need to get to work soon.”

“At this hour?” the redhead blinks.

“Night job.”

“Where?”

“At the _Snakehole Lounge_ , downtown,” Kanda replies, then he pauses. “Why the hell do you want to know?”

“That’s a really classy bar, isn’t it? Bartender, I’m guessing?” he ignores Kanda’s question and muses more to himself. “So that’s why you never step out during the day and you leave your apartment in the evenings,” he mumbles under his breath, and Kanda stares at him.

“…Are you fucking stalking me?”

“What—no! Oh god, no!” Lavi protests, frantically, though a faint red creeps to his cheeks. “I keep shit hours because I write better at night, and I can hear you when you close your front door, I—I’m not stalking you or anything!”

“You better not be,” Kanda growls. “But seriously, I need to bathe and leave. Get out.”

“Yeah, okay, sure,” the redhead nods. “Sorry for barging in, I…uh, I wanted to see how the inside of your place looked like,” he admits. “’Cause I’m writing this story, see, and it’s about—“

“I told you it’s the same damn thing,” Kanda rolls his eyes, cutting the monologue.

“I didn’t know that, remember?” Lavi answers, smiling. “Thanks, Yuu.”

“Whatever,” Kanda gives the redhead a weird glance before closing the door after him.

It takes two seconds before Kanda abruptly stops in his steps.

Why the fuck did the redhead _thank_ him for? That was weird. Even weirder is that the redhead called him by his first name, _again_ , and he didn’t even realise then.

* * *

It takes longer than he expects, but Kanda isn’t surprised when the redhead shows up about three weeks later at the _Snakehole Lounge_ during his shift. He is, however, surprised at the choice of clothes—obviously Lavi wasn’t going to enter in his ole pyjamas, he wouldn’t even been let in anyway, but the redhead is decked in an actual well form fitting dark suit, black tie tucked into his pocket, and a leather eyepatch instead of the white ones Kanda has seen the past three times. The flaming red hair is even gelled back properly, instead of the messy fly of a windstorm. The redhead actually looks kind of ho—

“New blood,” Daisya whispers to him as Lavi steps in taking a slow look around. “Really _red_ blood.”

Tyki and Lulu look over to the entrance, curious, and Kanda feels his life going to hell the very same moment. He inwardly sighs a big terrible sigh as Lavi comes up to the bar and immediately perks up.

“Hey, Yuu,” Lavi greets, settling himself down on the empty seat next to Tyki, oblivious to the three pairs of eyes shooting suddenly towards him. “You look great in the uniform.”

“What do you want?” Kanda states in a reflex, mentally cursing himself a second later. “And it’s _Kanda_.”

“Uh…what’s your house beer?”

“No, I meant,” Kanda frowns. “Why are you here?”

“I didn’t come here to stalk you if that’s what you’re asking,” Lavi smiles, charmed. “I heard this bar was pretty nice when I was checking out this area before I moved. Been wanting to visit for a while, for research and stuff,” he shrugs loosely. “I had to meet my editor today, so, why not?”

“Do my ears deceive me?” Daisya interrupts, grinning hard. “Is _Yuu_ doing _small talk_?”

“Shut the fuck up, shithead, and don’t call me by my first name,” Kanda hisses immediately, glaring to his left.

“See how he treats the people who love him?” Daisya mock sobs, and holds out a hand towards the redhead, shoving Kanda out of the way. “Daisya,” he points to himself. “Tyki, Lulu,” he gestures towards the other two.

“Lavi,” the redhead takes the hand and shakes it, amused. “Nice to meet you all.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Tyki winks, and Kanda catches the obvious once over and look of approval.

“What do you want?” Kanda cuts in before some predicted lewd line get spewed. “Drink.”

“House beer,” Lavi blinks. “Or what would you recommend?”

“You can start with this,” Daisya says as he sets down a glass of White Russian. “On the house.”

“Really? Well, thanks,” the redhead nods, taking a mouthful.

Kanda realises _why_ his fucking colleague gives that particular drink to the redhead the moment he catches himself watching the other sip at the white liquid and the tongue lick over his lips, and then he looks at the other two on the other side of the counter staring intently. Daisya is not so subtly snickering when Kanda tries to aim a kick at his shin.

“Lavi, you’re Kanda’s neighbour, right?” Daisya starts casually.

The redhead sets down the glass in surprise at the question. “Yeah, how did you know?”

“Hmm, oh, Kanda talks about you.”

“Asshole—“ Kanda starts, because he sees where this is all going.

“R-really?” Lavi blinks even more rapidly, and under the dim lighting his face starts to flush, but that could be from the alcohol.

“You guys had some really _special_ mail exchanges, as I’ve heard.”

“It was an accident!” Lavi protests in panic, eye wide, and Tyki and Lulu burst into chuckles.

“No need to get flustered over it, it happens,” Tyki says, sipping his own glass of whiskey, sending Lulu a smile. “Remember that one time Rhode opened the ball gag I got for you?”

“Sheryl hated you for that. Still hates you,” Lulu replies, shaking her head in amusement.

“Pretty sure he hates you for more than that,” Kanda puts in under his breath, and no one disagrees.

“So uh, you two…” Lavi ventures cautiously, but finds that he doesn’t really know what to say.

“Use sex toys? Sure,” Tyki answers easily, not at all bothered. “Kanda used to join us, but oh well,” he says in a sing song, grinning at the dark glare that’s shot his way.

Lavi can’t resist the glance over at Kanda in shock, but he quickly looks back at Tyki when the other asks him a question.

“So, a vibrator and handcuffs,” the other muses. “You’re interested in SM?”

Lavi blanches just a little bit on the inside, because wow, all these people really do know about his mail escapades, but then the dark skinned man is looking at him seriously, and everyone else isn’t laughing at him, which makes him feel like it’s…okay to be totally honest.

“Well…maybe?” he hedges cautiously. “I haven’t…uh, done enough to know.”

Tyki nods. “We think it’s pretty cool, that you’re, you know,” he shrugs. “…Exploring. If you want to know something, just ask. It’s better than hurting yourself. That’s important,” he looks at the bartender steadily ignoring them a couple of steps away. “Even Kanda knows that.”

“…Thanks.”

* * *

Kanda is officially banning the redhead to come to his workplace because Daisya is either slipping much more vodka than usual in the White Russians that he gives to the redhead, or that Lavi doesn’t hold his liquor that well. And also because he was forced to listen to his former lovers yak about kinky experiences in a place that he’s not allowed to be rude to customers—he really doesn’t want to know if Lavi is curious about how much lube is necessary to get a vibrator in his ass, but highlight of his fucking job—he now does.

He can’t really judge the redhead because he was once upon a time curious about this shit and he had Mikk and Lulu to guide the way, so he keeps his mouth shut and ignores the teasing whispers that Daisya sends his way.

“Come on, it’s fate playing into your hands,” Daisya insists when they leave at five in the morning, with a pretty drunk redhead slummed on the table. “Take him home.”

“Why the fuck did you keep giving him the damn drink?” Kanda hisses, because it’s by obvious default that he has to haul the redhead home, since they’re _neighbours_. “He should’ve fucking went home hours ago…” he grumbles.

“Give him a break; he’s cooped up at home all day writing his books or whatever—he enjoyed talking to us, you loser,” Daisya sighs exasperatedly. “Let him have a good time.”

“Tch,” Kanda grinds his teeth, but he does grab the redhead by the arm and pulls him along out of the bar as Daisya locks the main door.

“Don’t do anything to him that Mikk would do,” the other calls, grinning as Kanda loads Lavi in front of him on his motorbike, jamming his spare helmet on the redhead drowsily sitting upright.

Kanda snorts and takes off without a word of goodbye.

* * *

Lavi, Kanda learns, is clingy when he’s drunk. He gets them to the front of their doors without much fuss—Lavi practically leans his entire weight on his shoulder and Kanda just drags him along, but once in front of the main door, Kanda tries to prop the redhead on the wall but the redhead just won’t let go.

“Yuu…” the other breathes, intoxicated somewhere near his ear, and Kanda resists the urge to knee the other in the gut. “Yuu…you smell so nice…really nice…”

“What the hell,” Kanda mutters to himself. “Oi, where’s your damn key?”

“Key…”

“Key,” he repeats impatiently. “To your fucking apartment.”

Lavi merely grabs on to his shoulder unsteadily and closes his eye, stumbling closer. “’Sdunno…search me…”

Kanda breathes out, irritated and digs his hand into the other’s pants pockets. It’s not in the front pockets so he searches those on the back, and when Lavi plants his face into the crook of his neck Kanda realises that Lavi is clinging on to his shirt at his waist while he’s groping the other’s ass.

 _Not_ groping, but well, close to it.

“Yuu…” Lavi mumbles, and Kanda wants to bang his head on the wall because _what the fuck_ , why does this idiot keep using his first name, “…I love…” the other breathes in deeply. “….your apartment…”

Kanda literally yanks the key out when he finds it, shoving it into the knob viciously.

“It’s so neat…and nice…and you smell really nice…” Lavi continues to babble into his neck, and Kanda nearly slams the door open once the key is turned.

“You’re so fucking weird,” Kanda scoffs, extracting the redhead off him, but it takes some effort.

When he succeeds, he dumps the other on the closest surface he sees, which is a squishy bean bag on the floor and stalks out, ignoring the mumblings of his first name echoing after his footsteps.

* * *

Kanda’s doorbell rings the next day late afternoon with his redhead neighbour looking sheepish and holding some kind of monochrome tin box in his hand. That’s probably not from Tiedoll, so he doesn’t really get why the other is standing outside his apartment.

“Hi,” Lavi lights up when he opens it, just barely, looking uninterested. The redhead is in some kind of shirt and jeans combo, no pyjamas, Kanda notes, “I, um, want to thank you for yesterday. This morning,” he corrects. “For getting me home.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you on the damn street,” Kanda states blandly. “But if you get drunk off on your own again, I will,” he threatens.

“Thanks,” Lavi says again, ducking his head down. “I…I didn’t say anything weird, did I?”

Kanda raises an eyebrow. Weird? He wonders what the redhead would classify as weird, because apparently his neighbour _loves_ his apartment and he does think that’s kind of weird. “You did.”

The redhead snaps his head up fast. “L-like?”

The other’s complexion goes pinker and he starts to fidget while Kanda stares unflinchingly—it’s a bit…funny how Lavi looks like he’s on the verge of freaking out. He actually kind of…relishes it. Maybe. Kanda crushes that thought immediately.

“Something about my apartment. You didn’t make sense,” Kanda says instead.

“Oh. Um. Okay,” Lavi blinks, still a bit unsure. “Sorry. Anyway, I baked this for you,” he changes the topic quickly, offering the tin box to him.

Kanda doesn’t make to take the box. “What’s that?”

“Cookies. Chocolate chip.”

“I don’t like sweet things.”

Kanda feels a bit weirded out at the obvious disappointment in the redhead’s expression—it’s just a fucking box of cookies.

“Oh,” Lavi says, licking his lips for a short moment. “Well, then, can I buy you dinner…?”

Kanda sighs. “Don’t bother. Bye.”

“But—“

“I said it’s fine,” he states shortly, glancing a bit at the sky outside, which is starting to darken a little. “I need to leave soon.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. Yeah, okay, I’ll leave you to it,” Lavi forces a smile, waving with one hand. “Thanks, Yuu.”

Kanda closes his door without much thought, but five steps later he freezes, frowning.

“It’s Kanda,” he mutters to himself.

What the hell.

* * *

A couple more weeks pass and Kanda has more or less forgotten the wrong post deliveries that have cropped up in the past, until he tears open one envelope without much thought and squints at the numbers at the bottom. Huh. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t have that much cash in his bank account—he thinks he’s living pretty decently so who cares—but he’s definitely not reached that many figures, except for that one time in which he told the bank to ban any money transfers from a certain Froi Tiedoll. So then he flickers his gaze up the paper, and sees who the bank statements for the past three months really belongs to, and no surprise there, it’s his goddamn _neighbour_.

Huh. So his neighbour has decent income from his writing or whatever.

Kanda doesn’t know what to do with that. He does feel a bit guilty for opening sensitive and private information, but then again it is the redhead’s fault for getting the damn address wrong _again_. He clucks his tongue in annoyance and pads outside to jab the other doorbell; he doesn’t even bother with shoes, since it’s probably just going to take a second.

But after a minute there is no response, and Kanda scowls at the papers in his hand. Okay, so why did he feel like he had to get these over to the stupid idiot this very moment? He presses the doorbell again and there is no answer, and for some unknown reason, he rests his hand on the doorknob and turns it.

It’s only when the door actually opens that Kanda snaps out of it, cursing.

What the fuck? He could’ve just shoved the papers under the damn door, why did he try to open someone’s _front door_? Even better, why wasn’t the front door _locked_?

Whatever, the door is open so he walks in. “Oi,” he calls, but silence.

He casts his glance around and suddenly he feels a weird sense of déjà vu—the other time he dropped the redhead off he didn’t bother to look around, but this time, he sees that the apartment layout is _exactly_ the same as his. His landlord had told him it was the same and that’s what he assumed, but he didn’t realise how creepy it actually is, and he kind of forgives the redhead for the weird reaction the other time.

Lavi furnishes his home with a lot of wood and carpet, it’s like walking into another dimension of his own apartment, a softer and warmer and a…definitely messier version, especially with books and papers scattered everywhere. Kanda twitches his nose at the thick smell of old paper, picking out a figure of red hair slumped on the bean bag on the floor, eye closed with an open laptop on his lap. His hands are hilariously still in a typing position.

Kanda hesitates just for a split second before kicking the redhead’s leg lightly. That only earns a soft groan and shift, so Kanda nudges the leg harder. “Oi. Wake up.”

A louder groan, but it’s obvious that the redhead doesn’t want to open his eyes.

“You got your damn address wrong again,” Kanda states, squatting down to smack the bank statements over the other’s chest.

“Nmm…—h-huh?.... _Yuu_?!”

The redhead jolts wide awake in shock when he finally cracks his eye open, and nearly suffers a heart attack from the quick grab he makes to his laptop before it falls off.

“Uh, what are you doing in my apartment?” he rubs his eye hastily, setting the laptop on the floor.

Kanda just scowls. “Wrong address,” he jabs to the paper. “Again.”

Lavi scrambles to look at the paper in question, and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Oh. Uh, I must’ve written down the wrong address when I moved. I’ll change it!”

“I will throw the next one in the fucking trash if you don’t,” Kanda says in return. “And what the fuck, why don’t you lock your front door? It was open and shit.”

“Well, I do,” Lavi huffs defensively. “Before I go to….sleep,” he trails off, an edge of panic seeping into his voice. “Yuu, what’s the time now?”

Kanda sighs boredly and picks out his phone. “Nearing five.”

“ _Five_?!” the redhead squeaks. “Shit, shit, oh shit, oh fuck—“ he grabs the laptop back to him hastily, fingers moving quickly over the touchpad. “One hour, do you think I can rewrite the third chapter in one hour?” he demands, looking over at Kanda who stares at him oddly.

“How the fuck should I know.”

“You were supposed to say ‘Yes, you definitely can!’” Lavi groans a frustrated whine. “Okay, okay, I can do this,” he breathes in deeply, staring at the laptop screen.

Kanda blinks and stands up, deciding to leave the redhead to do whatever he has to do, but before he does, Lavi suddenly catches his wrist.

“Hey, Yuu—“ But just as abruptly, Lavi looks at his hand and quickly drops the hold, turning his face away for a second. “Uh, sorry. I…thanks,” he says after, with a smile. “For the bank statements. And for waking me up. God, if I slept past the deadline, my editor would’ve killed my fucking ass, I—“

“If you have time to talk you should use it to do whatever shit,” Kanda rolls his eyes, waving his hand absentmindedly at the laptop as he stands up. “Just stop sending me your stuff, it’s annoying.”

He doesn’t really hear what Lavi says after him as he sees himself out.

* * *

Kanda doesn’t see the redhead for the next two days. It’s a quiet night at the bar—or maybe due to the absence of one Tyki Mikk, less shit was being spoken. Lulu was always more on the same wavelength as he was; they kind of agreed on most things, even though most of it was unspoken. Light easy banter between Daisya and Lulu eases all the way until two in the morning, till when Lulu swallows down the last of her blood orange martini—Kanda doesn’t like making martinis and he suspects that’s the reason why Lulu keeps ordering variations of them—and beckons him forward.

“What?” he asks, taking the empty glass away from the counter.

“You’re quiet today,” she observes. “Someone on your mind?”

Kanda merely rolls his eyes. “Leave the stupid questions to Mikk,” he smirks, just slightly, and then frowns. “Get home already.”

Lulu smiles. “I was waiting for you to bring me back.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“It _has_ happened,” she replies airy, still smiling as she reaches out for his tie.

She pulls him in light but firm, moulding their lips together. When she releases him, she chuckles at the annoyed expression he has.

“Go home,” Kanda scoffs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I’ll see you soon, Kanda,” Lulu nods, and waves at Daisya who’s at the other end mixing a drink before she hops off the stool.

It’s at this moment when both of them turn and see a familiar redhead walking closer a couple of paces away.  Lulubell smiles and touches the redhead’s shoulder as she passes by, murmuring some greeting words, Kanda supposes, before she leaves. Lavi takes the seat that Lulu just vacated with an odd expression on his face.

“Yo, Red,” Daisya greets, placing both hands on the counter when he comes over. “How have you been? Knew you’d drop by again sometime, but I didn’t expect you to come at in at two in the morning,” he admits.

Lavi laughs, waving his hand. “Was a little busy with a deadline, but it’s finally over,” he shrugs. “I don’t really keep good sleep hours, anyway, so I thought I’d come by to chill out, and also so that Yuu can’t run away from me.”

Daisya looks over to Kanda in curiosity, who also glances in confusion. “Run?”

“Yeah, I’m treating him to eat something after his shift,” Lavi says blithely, with a challenging stare towards the bartender in question. “He basically closed a door in my face when I said I wanted to buy him dinner to thank him for getting me home the other time.”

Kanda scowls, and breathes out slowly. “I said I don’t want it, idiot,” he grumbles. “Save your goddamn money.”

“Yuu, you _literally_ , saved my life by waking me up that day,” Lavi states, looking at him fully. “I need to do something to repay you for that.”

“Donate to some fucking charity or something, I don’t care,” Kanda grinds out, elbowing Daisya who looks like he’s on the verge of laughing his ass off, but is only trying to keep his composure for propriety sake. “Are you going to order a damn drink any time soon?”

“I’ll have the same as the other time, the...White Russian? It was pretty good—“

“Oh hell no,” Kanda mutters under his breath. “You are not getting drunk again.”

“I wasn’t watching how many I drank the other time,” Lavi protests with a huff. “I will, this time. Promise. How else can I drag you to eat something if I’m drunk anyway?”

“We are _not_ going to eat anything later,” Kanda corrects impatiently, and spies Daisya picking up a glass and certain liquors that he knows are for a White Russian. “Asshole, you are not making him that again.”

Daisya mock pouts. “Fine, make him something you approve then.”

Kanda takes a couple of coloured liquids and throws it into a glass and tops it with shaved ice—it’s one of his own concoctions that’s not on the menu, he only makes it if there’s a special order. Lavi beams at the colourful drink he sets forth and sips it.

“I don’t know what you put into this,” Lavi begins. “But it’s really good,” he stares at it, like it contains the secret to the universe.

Daisya yanks Kanda a few steps away so that the redhead can’t overhear them.

“You made him a _mocktail_?” the elder demands, incredulous.

“I’m not going to cart him home drunk _again_ ,” Kanda hisses back.

Daisya stares at him for a second before bursting out into laughter, slapping a hand over his eyes. “Fuck. You are adorable.”

“What the _fuck_ —“

“Just let him take you somewhere nice for your date later, hmm?” Daisya grins winningly.

Kanda growls low in his throat. “It’s not like that, dumbass. Shut up and do your damn job, that idiot over there is glaring over here.”

* * *

Lavi does not manage to take him out to eat after his shift ends. This is because Kanda owns a motorbike and had sat himself on it with a challenging raise of the eyebrows to the redhead.

“I’m tired, I’m going home,” he declares, affixing on his helmet as Lavi pouts at him. “You can either hop on or take a damn taxi, I don’t care.”

“But Yuu, come on,” Lavi begs. “Just a meal! You’ve been working for the past few hours, aren’t you hungry?”

Yeah, Kanda is kind of hungry, but he has food at home, and besides,

“Nothing is open at five fucking a.m.,” Kanda states blandly. “Fast food doesn’t count; I’m not eating that shit.”

Lavi bites his bottom lip and frowns harder, but Kanda accepts that he’s a lot more stubborn than most people.

“I’m leaving.”

“Wait!” Lavi shouts, just as he makes to turn the ignition. “…Can I come with you?”

“Tch,” Kanda sighs, digging for his spare helmet, which he tosses to the redhead. “Hurry up.”

The redhead scrambles to obey his order, maybe because his tone is getting more irritable by the second.

Lavi sits behind him, unsure. “Do I hold your waist, or…”

“Yes,” Kanda breathes out impatiently, grabbing the nervous hands that settle around his waist. “Hold. _Tight_. If you fall off and die, I am not dealing with your funeral.”

“Noted,” Lavi says, and Kanda ignores how it sounds a little too close to his ear.

He also ignores the warm weight seeping onto his back as he fires up the ignition and blades through the cool night.

* * *

The lift ride up to their apartment floor is a little awkward, because they didn’t need to talk whilst on the bike, but now the silence bleeds loud and clear. Kanda is okay with the silence—he yawns a little, but at the end of his yawn Lavi speaks.

“Do you still sleep with them?”

“ _What_ ,” Kanda says, thrown off.

Lavi jumps as though he didn’t realise he had spoken. “Um, I’m just curious!” he says defensively. “Tyki and Lulu are pretty open about…their relationship, I just thought you might…um…know about…” he looks away. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that.”

Kanda clucks his tongue. “…I’m not with those idiots anymore,” he says eventually. “Look, I don’t care if you’re trying out whatever you want to try out, just,” he scowls more to himself. “It’s better to ask than to do something stupid.”

“Right,” Lavi nods, giving him a careful glance. “So, uh…were you a dom or a sub?”

Kanda stares straight ahead, wondering why the fuck he had given an open invitation for these types of questions—it was important that the redhead didn’t hurt himself or something, but still.

“Neither.” At the obvious questioning silence, he crosses his arms. “I did both.”

“Oh. You…didn’t like being either?”

He shrugs a bit. “It was fine. The interest just passed, that’s all.”

“Oh.”

The lift arrives at their floor and Lavi doesn’t ask any more questions, just a “Night, Yuu.” and Kanda’s own absentminded wave as he closes the door behind him.

* * *

No more wrong mail gets posted to Kanda’s address, and Kanda guesses there would be something very wrong if there was—it’s coming close to half a year and if the redhead hasn’t sorted out the issue of getting his own address wrong then Kanda was going to kill his stupid ass. But everything is fine as it should be, or so Kanda thinks until Lavi rings his doorbell one afternoon.

In the redhead’s hands are one non-descript brown package. “Hey, I think this is yours?”

Kanda frowns. “I didn’t order anything.”

And that package is certainly _not_ from Tiedoll.

“Well, I didn’t order anything either,” Lavi says, and when Kanda gives him a look, he pouts. “I swear, I didn’t order anything this time.”

Kanda scowls and takes the package, squinting at the label. All that’s on it is Lavi’s address with no name and a stamp that’s been chopped with ink from the post office. There’s only one way to find out what it is and who it is for, so Kanda brings it into his apartment to his table and rips off the wrapping.

He stares at it for all off two seconds as Lavi inches close behind him. “So what is it?”

“You said you didn’t order anything,” Kanda scowls, throwing a glare to the other.

“I really didn’t—“ Lavi begins, then his voice drops when he sees what’s on the table.

The words VIBRATING ANAL BEADS can’t really get any clearer from its big bold letterings.

“I-I really didn’t order that!” Lavi insists, face flushing a little, hands up in surrender. “Honest to god, I didn’t!”

Kanda turns his glare back to the box, which he now notices there’s a card tacked to one side of it. He flicks it off, first in curiosity, but he barely reads two words before he knows _exactly_ who sent the item. He crushes the card in his hands viciously.

“…Fucking Daisya.”

“Uh, Yuu, are you okay?” Lavi sounds concerned beside him, but Kanda is too busy feeling a deep sense of fucking annoyance to respond.

His colleague is going to _die_ tonight.

He shoves the box into Lavi’s hands. “You can have it.”

Lavi burns a bit redder. “But—“

“I don’t want it. Take it. Or throw it away. I don’t care.”

“O-okay,” Lavi says uncertainly. “It’s just…uh…I don’t know how to use it.”

“I’m not going to show you,” Kanda says immediately, and Lavi nearly drops the box.

“No, no, I didn’t mean—“ the redhead protests, but Kanda interrupts.

“Lube it. Don’t shove it in your ass,” he states blandly, trying to put it in words, but he doesn’t really know how. “Whatever. Mikk can explain it better. Ask him.”

“Okay, thanks. I think,” Lavi says more to himself as Kanda gestures for him to leave his apartment.

* * *

It turns out that Kanda hasn’t found a way to get away with murder, and so Daisya is still alive and kicking. The elder, however, does sport a pretty sore bruise under his ribs. Lavi actually comes by for a few hours at night and has a joking conversation about the…prank (?)….with the offender, as well as a detailed lesson in using those beads—Kanda makes extra effort to serve the other side of the counter while Mikk blabs away—and in that time he muses more about his murder research.

About three in the morning the redhead takes his leave after Lulu and Mikk had gone an hour ago, which is a bit unusual; Kanda was half expecting that the redhead would stay to the end of his shift, but then he quickly kills that thought, because there’s literally no reason why the redhead should.

Daisya and he work the next two hours away in relative quiet—Daisya still rubs at the bruise under his ribs, but the elder keeps _looking_ at him and it’s driving Kanda irritated. More irritated.

“ _What_ is it,” Kanda practically spits out.

Daisya sets down the glass he was wiping and looks over properly. “Dude, you do know that Red’s totally into you, right?”

Kanda frowns. “…What?”

“Red,” Daisya, taps the table impatiently. “Lavi. Your neighbour. He likes you.”

Kanda rolls his eyes. “Shut up. He doesn’t.”

“…” Daisya stares at him for a good long while. “You’re lying,” the other says eventually. “You’re fucking lying. You can’t _not_ know that he’s always _looking_ at you.”

“That’s fucking creepy,” Kanda comments, and Daisya actually glares at him.

“He looks like he’s in love with you all the fucking time, asshole. He tried to ask you out for _dinner_. More than once.”

“Yeah, that’s because he felt like he fucking owed me—“

Daisya makes some sort of a strangled noise. “He baked you cookies. What the actual fuck, _dude_ , he fucking _baked_ _cookies_ for you.”

Kanda feels the regret of telling Daisya that. In fact, he regrets a lot of things with motherfucking Daisya.

“Are you fucking dense?” Daisya swears at him, incredulous. “How the fuck did Mikk even fuck you anyway?”

“Why are you so invested?” Kanda asks instead. “Leave your ass out of this.”

“Hey, this guy doesn’t just want your ass, okay,” Daisya huffs. “I’ve seen enough of that. But he—he likes _you_ , you prick. I dunno. He seems like he would be good for you.”

“Again, why do you care?”

“I always care, you asshole, and I’m not afraid to admit it, unlike someone,” Daisya gives a very pointed look towards him. “So, do you like him or not?”

“Why the hell are you so hung up about this?”

“Kanda, it’s just a fucking question.”

“Tch,” Kanda huffs. “I don’t _like_ him. He’s…okay. Or something. Whatever.”

“That’s the closest thing I’ll ever get from you,” Daisya scoffs, but he’s grinning a little. “I bet you your ass this dude is willing to be your sub.”

“I don’t want—“

“Or your dom. Fuck, whatever, I’m not into the kinky shit that you and lover boy are, I’m just saying,” Daisya looks at the other meaningfully, “Give the dude a chance and you guys can figure out your sex life. He’s probably whatever you’re searching for in that _missing_ thing of yours. Think about it.”

* * *

Lavi is just his neighbour. It’s not like they’re close or they talk a lot or hang out alone together much and stuff. Kanda can’t really see why Lavi would like him either—lots of people have crushes on his face, but that quickly goes away with his sour attitude. Kanda isn’t blind to his own flaws but he is who he is; he’s not going to pretend to get people to like him. He doesn’t need it.

Daisya doesn’t bring the topic up again but the other does keep giving him those _looks_ whenever Lavi drops by. And then a few days later Mikk and Lulu are apparently on it too and _they_ start giving them those looks behind the redhead’s back, and Kanda considers finding another job to get away from his nosy stupid friends.

* * *

Kanda’s phone rings one particular weekend evening. It’s unusual because no one calls him except Tiedoll, everyone else knows he prefers texting, and it is a number he doesn’t recognise. Kanda sighs irritably and wrings out the towel he was using to wipe his kitchen counter and throws it into the sink, wiping his wet hands on his shirt before swiping the phone screen to answer.

“Who is this?”

“Yuu…”

Kanda immediately recognises the voice, also because there’s only one other idiot who calls him by his first name.

“What do you want? And how did you get my number?”

There’s a breathless chuckle that sounds a bit strained, and in fact, Lavi’s voice seems a bit tense and tired at the same time.

“I got it from Daisya. I uh, I need your help.”

“No.”

“Please! Yuu, please, I…I really don’t know what to do anymore,” Lavi frantically injects, and Kanda actually pauses, because the redhead sounds really desperate. “Please, please, please—“

“Tch. Stop that,” Kanda sighs. “What kind of help are you talking about?”

“I…I uh,” Lavi mumbles something that Kanda can’t hear.

“Idiot, if you don’t spit out, I’m going to hang up.”

“Okay, okay!” Lavi bursts out, and the subsequent swallow is loud. “I…I tried it.”

“Tried _what_?”

“The beads!” Lavi rushes out quickly, voice getting tighter. “I did everything Mikk told me to and that was all fine but I handcuffed myself and I dropped the key, I know I shouldn’t have done that, but I-I’ve been stuck for hours and I can’t get them out, fuck, Yuu, please, I—“

Kanda actually lifts the phone from his ear to look at it in incredulity, because _what the fuck_?

“Yuu,” Lavi pleads, voice almost breaking. “Please. I swear I won’t ever come on to you ever again. Please.”

Kanda nearly drops his phone. “You were _what_?”

“Can we not do this now?” Lavi whimpers. “I’m hard and I can’t think straight and I—I…I’ll do anything that you want me to do, I can’t take it anymore, _fuck_.”

“…What the hell do you want me to do about it?”

“Help uncuff me? Please, that’s all I ask, Yuu, I’m sorry, fuck, I am so sorry—“

“Fine, I’m coming over. Just shut up,” Kanda rubs his temples and questions his life as he walks across the corridor to the other door. “Oi, I don’t have your key.”

“It’s open.”

Indeed, it is.

“Dumbass, what the hell? You want to get robbed?”

“I told you I lock the door before I sleep.”

Kanda walks into Lavi’s room—same layout, so their bedrooms are in the same place—halfway in between Lavi’s sentence. He doesn’t really have any words to describe the situation because it’s by far the weirdest he’s been in, and that’s saying something with experiences with people like Mikk and Lulu.

The redhead is cuffed as he said, but the other has forgotten to leave out details like the really thick smell of come and sweat _and_ being totally naked, which means Kanda stares straight at the hard-on that’s wet with both come and lube.

Lavi makes some sort of a squeak when he realises that Kanda has entered his room, and tries to curl up, but he fails.

Kanda notices that Lavi’s phone is on the bed next to him, speaker mode—ah, so that’s how the call came through.

“What’s that noise?” he cuts through the awkward silence, except for this buzzing sound in the air.

 “It’s um,” Lavi winces, a dark red flush crawling up his chest to his neck. “The beads.”

It’s a miracle that Lavi’s voice isn’t shaking that badly, because the other is sweating like _hell_ ; Kanda doesn’t know how long Lavi’s been stuck in this position, but he has enough experience to know that the erection was probably painful at this point, judging from the ruined sheets and dirtied torso.

“Where did you drop the key?”

“Behind… _ah_ …the bed,” Lavi squeezes out. “Yuu, I’m really…s-sorry about this…I—“

Kanda looks at the bed and curses—it’s not one of those where there is empty space beneath the bed, more like a block of wood for elevation with the mattress on top of it; Kanda isn’t even sure if the thing is bolted to the floor or if he can shift it.

“You can’t move it,” Lavi says, killing all his hopes. “But the space is big enough to reach in, and I would, if I wasn’t so, you know, stuck.”

Shitty attempt for a joke, really. Kanda scowls and steels himself before getting onto the bed. He ignores the wet patches and peeks over the edge of the bed, squinting to see where the blasted thing has fallen, and spies it a further deeper along. Without much thought he nudges Lavi with his knee to move away, digging his hand behind the bed.

Once he grasps the edge of the key but it slips out of his finger tips and he shifts again, but it’s too late; the key sinks deeper down and he curses.

“Shit, hold on a sec.”

But Lavi moans at that very moment, and Kanda snaps around to look at him. The redhead’s face is twisted with a mixed of pain and pleasure, and his face is totally red, biting his lip.

“D-don’t mind me, it’s just— _hah_ ,” he gasps, squeezing his eye shut, “It’s just—fuck, shit—“

Kanda catches sight of Lavi’s wrists as he struggles a bit, angry red lines printed on his skin, probably from some desperate attempts to get himself free earlier.

“Where the remote?”

Lavi turns his face away and his voice is small when he answers. “…I also dropped it behind the bed.”

“…”

Kanda presses his lips together and returns to reaching behind the bed again, but the gap is small and he can’t actually see where he’s reaching, and even though he manages to touch the bottom, nothing touches his fingers.

“Fuck, I can’t feel anything,” he states, frowning.

“Yuu…” Lavi begins, face desperate. “Please try, I don’t think I can…take… _hah_ ,” he gasps. “…it…anymore…”

It’s ridiculous how incredibly fast the vibrating beads against his prostrate had made him come, and once he had accidentally dropped both the key and the remote, he knew that the pleasure was going to be way _too much_ ; he doesn’t think he can come anymore but it seems like his cock wants to try, and he’s been hanging on the edge for the past twenty minutes now.

It actually _hurts_ ; if Kanda can’t get him out he’s going to lose his fucking mind really soon.

Lavi doesn’t realise he’s teared until a hand presses against his cheek. Kanda is looking at him with a serious expression.

“Lie down.”

“W-what?”

“Lie down,” Kanda orders, grabbing his arm to push him down, though it feels oddly gentle. “I don’t know if I can find your damn key or remote any time soon. I’m taking the beads out before you go crazy.”

Lavi nearly chokes, but Kanda isn’t done talking.

“You fucking idiot, don’t you dare do this shit again.”

He nods frantically, because all words just get stuck when Kanda maneuvers over him. Lavi stares straight up trying to calm himself down. It doesn’t work, because the moment that Kanda touches the inside of his thigh he groans and jerks up.

“Yuu—fuck, I…if you touch me, I can’t—“

Kanda clucks his tongue and places a hand on Lavi’s jaw, to which the redhead immediately leans into it, eye closed. “You can. Just breathe.”

Lavi groans again when Kanda touches his thigh again, careful to keep his touch light as he moves up. Kanda curls his hand on Lavi’s jaw a little further back and rubs the back of the other’s nape as Lavi whimpers out loud the moment he reaches the hook of the toy inside the other. He gives it a very small experimental tug.

“I can’t—“ Lavi gasps out desperately, back arching sharply. “I-I can’t come anymore and-and your hand— _hah_ —“ he strains, “Fuck, fuck, fuck—“

“Breathe slowly,” Kanda orders calmly. “In…out. Again.”

While Lavi breathes in deep, Kanda yanks a bead out and the redhead cries out. Lavi sucks in a deep breath after, body visibly trembling.

“Yuu…” he swallows. “…god, I _can’t_ …Y-yuu…please, don’t—”

“Just one more time,” Kanda says, using his thumb to wipe away the tears leaking out from the other’s eye. “One more, that’s it. Breathe in. Slowly.”

Lavi closes his eye and breathes in. True to his word, Kanda pulls out the rest of the toy with a swift motion, and he screams so loud that his voice cracks at the end. He doesn’t have any more come left to spill but his back arches sharply anyway, the force of the dry orgasm leaving him trembling in its wake. Lavi feels warm hands soothing his back and his nape and he tries hard not to hyperventilate, tries to listen to the voice that counts for him to breathe.

His eye is wet with tears by the time he calms down enough to crack it open.

Kanda is looking at him intently, features pinched in concentration. “Can you breathe?”

“…Y-yeah,” he mumbles, closing his eye again. “Thank you. I…I understand if you don’t want to see me ever again, I…” he curls up, turning on his side. “I’m sorry.”

Kanda pulls away, leaving him cold. He closes his eye and tries not to cry for real, but then there is the sound of his closet being slammed wide open and suddenly a bunch of his bath towels are dumped over his body.

Kanda looks annoyed as he sits down on the bed again. “What?”

“…You’re not leaving?”

“You’re in fucking subspace. And your key is still stuck behind your bed,” Kanda snorts, pushing him down when he tries to get up. “Stay there.”

Lavi settles back because he doesn’t actually have the energy to get up, and is grateful for the warm provided by his bath towels over his body.

“You came on to me.”

Lavi swallows when Kanda speaks, looking away. “I…I baked you cookies. And I asked you out to dinner, but you didn’t want to go with me.”

What the fuck, Kanda stares, Daisya was actually right about that shit.

“Everyone else knew that I’m in love with you, Yuu,” the redhead chokes a forced laugh. “But I guess that doesn’t matter anymore...”

Kanda stares some more at the other who steadfastly avoids his gaze and tries to bury himself under the bath towels, but it’s a slow effort considering that the redhead’s hands are still cuffed together.

“You’re so fucking depressing,” Kanda says eventually.

“I just wanted a chance with you and I ruined it,” Lavi mumbles, and Kanda thinks that’s got to be about the most pathetic thing he’s ever heard someone be depressed about.

It actually makes his heart twinge, and Kanda scowls at that.

“Idiot,” he grumbles finally, reaching over to make the redhead face him. “I’m hard, you know.”

He leans down and presses their mouths together, ignoring the startled noise, and a few seconds later Lavi is cautiously kissing him back. He ends it before the redhead probes his tongue into his mouth. But Lavi is looking back at him intently with some kind of eye wide wonder, and Kanda doesn’t stop the second kiss that the other seeks towards him, and then regrets it, just a bit, when Lavi hooks his cuffed hands around his neck eagerly and draws him down.  

(Lavi doesn’t let go for the next half an hour.)

* * *

_~I wanna be next you  
_ _black and gold~_


End file.
